Way back in college, in the previous century, I snorted coke once. I was not impressed.A little later, still in college, I snorted some speed.I truly thought I was going to die, or expel my own sinuses or possibly my eyeballs.I will never willingly snort anything up my nostrils again as long as I live.

George, it occurs to me that the coke you did was probably cut so much as to be effectively garbage. A high that's just below threshold is actually irritating (and you pass through that stage as you come down, which is when you get the intense craving to hit another line and start up again -- half high on coke is uncomfortable).

But cocaine is a first order euphoric, and I'm not sure anybody is really immune. I think everybody likes coke, if they sample the good stuff. The first line I ever snorted addicted me. I knew I liked it so well, that it had the power to turn me into an animal.

So I've done almost no coke in my life (I could count the number of times on both hands and both feet, and still have enough fingers free to hold a rolled up $20 bill) because the stuff scares the shit out of me.

Smudge wrote:

George, it occurs to me that the coke you did was probably cut so much as to be effectively garbage. A high that's just below threshold is actually irritating (and you pass through that stage as you come down, which is when you get the intense craving to hit another line and start up again -- half high on coke is uncomfortable).

But cocaine is a first order euphoric, and I'm not sure anybody is really immune. I think everybody likes coke, if they sample the good stuff. The first line I ever snorted addicted me. I knew I liked it so well, that it had the power to turn me into an animal.

So I've done almost no coke in my life (I could count the number of times on both hands and both feet, and still have enough fingers free to hold a rolled up $20 bill) because the stuff scares the shit out of me.

It all seems to depend on body chemistry. I could sleep a few hours after taking prescription amphetamines and coke did nothing for me when everybody else was practically anesthetized. I used speed so I could stay up all night drinking, but my drug of choice was always pot.

You're right, of course. There is wide variance in how people respond to various drugs. If you read the label warnings you can learn that. On anti-depressants, there are warnings that some people's reactions to the drug will be depression, etc.

It's for reasons like this that some people will survive even the worst of plagues; the genetic variance which allows the species to survive in a quickly changing environment.

-----

I could also be right, however. It was a dozen years or more after I first did coke before I tried anything even close to uncut. It was a whole different beast. Purity depends on a lot of things; location, what decade, the crowd you hang out with, how much you pay, etc. But it's not unusual for coke to be cut half a dozen times before it gets to your nose.

Baywolfe wrote:

It all seems to depend on body chemistry. I could sleep a few hours after taking prescription amphetamines and coke did nothing for me when everybody else was practically anesthetized. I used speed so I could stay up all night drinking, but my drug of choice was always pot.

I think you're right. I drank coca tea as kid and sampled high grade marching powder as an adolescent, while one of my kin stateside was cooking biker meth. I didn't care for any of it. Weed worked for me, and still does. Tobacco hooked me before I knew better. And drink turns me blotto so fast, I rarely go near it. Ask Johnny Rotten real nice, he might tell you about Choad and the flower pot.

George Orr wrote:

Way back in college, in the previous century, I snorted coke once. I was not impressed.A little later, still in college, I snorted some speed.I truly thought I was going to die, or expel my own sinuses or possibly my eyeballs.I will never willingly snort anything up my nostrils again as long as I live.

I love blow. Love it. The only thing I don't care for is how tramped down it is anymore and you have to keep chasing it all night.

I didn't realize how shitty it was getting until I went to Puerto Rico a few months ago and scored a bit from a waitress. She brought me a "teener" and I thanked her but told her that I would be needing quite a bit more. She told me it wasn't a problem but this wasn't "shit from the states" so I should try it first. It was awesome. I called her for more anyway and then I shared it with her and banged her.

Bigcat wrote:

George Orr wrote:

Way back in college, in the previous century, I snorted coke once. I was not impressed.A little later, still in college, I snorted some speed.I truly thought I was going to die, or expel my own sinuses or possibly my eyeballs.I will never willingly snort anything up my nostrils again as long as I live.

I love blow. Love it. The only thing I don't care for is how tramped down it is anymore and you have to keep chasing it all night.

I didn't realize how shitty it was getting until I went to Puerto Rico a few months ago and scored a bit from a waitress. She brought me a "teener" and I thanked her but told her that I would be needing quite a bit more. She told me it wasn't a problem but this wasn't "shit from the states" so I should try it first. It was awesome. I called her for more anyway and then I shared it with her and banged her.

Good times.

Do all your stories end like a badly written pulp novel or just the ones here?

Baywolfe wrote:

Bigcat wrote:

[I love blow. Love it. The only thing I don't care for is how tramped down it is anymore and you have to keep chasing it all night.

I didn't realize how shitty it was getting until I went to Puerto Rico a few months ago and scored a bit from a waitress. She brought me a "teener" and I thanked her but told her that I would be needing quite a bit more. She told me it wasn't a problem but this wasn't "shit from the states" so I should try it first. It was awesome. I called her for more anyway and then I shared it with her and banged her.

Good times.

Do all your stories end like a badly written pulp novel or just the ones here?

Smudge wrote:

Smudge wrote:

George, it occurs to me that the coke you did was probably cut so much as to be effectively garbage. A high that's just below threshold is actually irritating (and you pass through that stage as you come down, which is when you get the intense craving to hit another line and start up again -- half high on coke is uncomfortable).

But cocaine is a first order euphoric, and I'm not sure anybody is really immune. I think everybody likes coke, if they sample the good stuff. The first line I ever snorted addicted me. I knew I liked it so well, that it had the power to turn me into an animal.

So I've done almost no coke in my life (I could count the number of times on both hands and both feet, and still have enough fingers free to hold a rolled up $20 bill) because the stuff scares the shit out of me.

You may very well be right about the coke. I never knew its provenance.My little sister had a bad coke habit for a short while but she eventually ran out of money and saw sense.At that age I looooooved stims. I had to be really careful about taking speed; I didn't need to be told how bad it is for your body--the hangovers tell you that if you have a lick of sense.I'd spend 24 hours speeding, then spend the next three days feeling like I had a bad case of flu. Every once in a great while I'd treat myself to a weekend, then spend the entire following week feeling like I had a bad case of flu.Stims are for the young, healthy and foolish only. But occasionally I still miss those chills that'd run up and down my back, and that tightness, and that feeling of being ready for anything the universe could throw my way.

In a typical twist of fate, the cut is put in at the source in Columbia, which confused researchers as it did not seem to make economic sense. Why weigh it down? It turns out that all that Levamisole is supplied and shipped at US taxpayer expense by the container ship load to columbia as part of our billion dollar aid to prop up that country's drug war. Originally part of the aid to support alternate farming to coca. So we poisoned our populace again, thanks.

Smudge wrote:

Baywolfe wrote:

Bigcat wrote:

[I love blow. Love it. The only thing I don't care for is how tramped down it is anymore and you have to keep chasing it all night.

I didn't realize how shitty it was getting until I went to Puerto Rico a few months ago and scored a bit from a waitress. She brought me a "teener" and I thanked her but told her that I would be needing quite a bit more. She told me it wasn't a problem but this wasn't "shit from the states" so I should try it first. It was awesome. I called her for more anyway and then I shared it with her and banged her.

Good times.

Do all your stories end like a badly written pulp novel or just the ones here?

Do I detect a touch of envy there, Baywolfe?

Nah, I was just getting bored. The cat works better with a little provocation. Besides, nobody would believe about 3/4 of my stories, I barely believe them. And not just the ones that start with, "We got really drunk one night..." either.

Smudge wrote:

The first time was the most important day of my life. Every single time after that was a waste of time, and sometimes an unnecessary danger.

That's why I loved pot. Your get high mileage may vary depending on the quality of the weed, but it's always a welcome friend and is never boring. I plan on revisiting my misspent early adulthood when I retire in about 6 years. Brownies this time though.

choad wrote:

GooberMcNutly wrote:

All I ever wanted to do is smoke a joint and tell tall tales around a campfire. I'll show myself out.

Awright, tell us about the first time you took a psychotropic. Learn anything from it?

Man, this thread is great for reviving old college memories. I spent virtually a whole summer on some quite good LSD (the supply was given to us in return for a favor we did someone, which I cannot remember). At first it was, of course, amazing, and it taught me a lot about perception which has been useful to me my entire life.Then...my then-spouse summed it up pretty well by saying it was like going to the circus every night. At first it's thrilling and there's so much to see and experience; and then you enjoy some of it the second and third time around--and then at some point you've seen and experienced everything the circus has to offer, y'know?There have been two lifelong side effects: 1) From then to now, I see a tree and can't help visualizing the root system underneath. A tree is not a trunk with branches and leaves at one end; a tree is a trunk with an incredibly intricate and beautiful webwork at each end.2) I own nothing plaid. I do not allow Husband™ to purchase plaid shirts. I will not have plaid in my house. It's just too damn ugly.

Johnny_Rotten wrote:

Even nastier. There's no pretense of art with a carny. They're sort of a rolling con game.

The circus took care of me. It was a fascinating world. On the edge of criminal. But they took care of their own.

"Sure...come by in the morning and we'll settle up." Circus pulls out of town at 11:00 pm leaving no forwarding address. By six am we're 200 miles away in another tiny town, and I'm up already awake, putting up the tents and building the bleacher seats.

MSG Tripps wrote:

choad wrote:

Awright, tell us about the first time you took a psychotropic. Learn anything from it?

Sopers. Did not need it as I was very satisfied with orange barrels and the like.Hey choad.

Hey back at you, Sarge.

Saturday, March 6, 1971 was my bicycle day, an orange barrel 4-way split between 3 friends. One did an agitated freakout, full blown, screaming, tearing off his clothes and running in circles naked. He's a top NOAA climate geek now. The other friend did a runner and became an RN. Still buzzed to the gills, I hurled a full throttle, technicolor rooster tail to clear my tangled wits, and got my friend out safely, just ahead of the cops. I left home that day and never really went back.

I know what you mean about trees, Georgie. It started with a green blotter out in the woods. I fell in love, if only for the evening, with an oak and was quite convinced when hugging it that I could hear what was going on inside. It sounded (or felt) like a stream flowing. I climbed on top of a one story school building but began to lose coordination, or rather the ability to make decisions related to climbing back down. I rolled off the roof and floated gently to the ground -- like landing in a cloud. I have no idea how that happened. The other highly memorable thing about that night is how I felt about the friends I was with at the time, like they/we were perfect somehow (truly delusional), forming a bond that remains strong to this day.

Fled wrote:

The other highly memorable thing about that night is how I felt about the friends I was with at the time, like they/we were perfect somehow (truly delusional), forming a bond that remains strong to this day.

They saw you nekkid, whether you were or not, and you can't unsee that.

There's another dynamic at work here, too, and it's surfaced several times in disparate threads over the years; the beyond probability chance encounters and intersecting orbits of people most important to you. Creeped me out as a kid and still does here in...

choad wrote:

There's another dynamic at work here, too, and it's surfaced several times in disparate threads over the years; the beyond probability chance encounters and intersecting orbits of people most important to you. Creeped me out as a kid and still does here in...

Yup. Hard to know what to make of that stuff. I just sort of marvel and scratch my head. Life is just exactly what it seems to be. Except it isn't.

choad wrote:

GooberMcNutly wrote:

All I ever wanted to do is smoke a joint and tell tall tales around a campfire. I'll show myself out.

Awright, tell us about the first time you took a psychotropic. Learn anything from it?

I like to make it a goal to learn something *every* time I toke up. Large or small, world hunger or how I've never noticed a particular bass line before. But I would say that the number one thing I've learned from the difference between being high and not being high is that we all generally get along better when we are a little bit high. I'm sure it would be great if we were all naturally empathetic, peaceful, contemplative and deprecating, but more of us are if we are stoned.

But the first time was with my Mom at a Tina Turner concert in Grenada, smoking hash she bought off some African. Now I bring her the best stuff for her tired old bones. That's the way the world turns.